


in dreams i meet you (in warm conversations)

by LilaacStars



Series: (oneshots) [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Dreams, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy, half reveal, ladrien, miraculous use, partial reveal, two dorks in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 19:23:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21166631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilaacStars/pseuds/LilaacStars
Summary: "It’s still not safe to reveal her identity, not enough time has passed to assure that she will not be chased or attacked. Only a few months and the secrets will fall.But for now, this is the only way they can meet.In dreams. "





	in dreams i meet you (in warm conversations)

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoy this little thing that popped up in my mind a few days ago :)

The night is cold and the snow in New York is not as welcoming as the one in Paris, making the wind a threat too. She’s forgotten to close the window, but it’s too late to fix that now. 

It doesn’t matter anyway. 

Her body feels the exterior world but thanks to the goat miraculous and its power, her mind is slowly losing itself in a curtain of steam, swimming deep till her hands caress the sky. 

The last thing she hears is the clock striking midnight, and then the whispers of imaginary people fill the air, accompanied by the notes of an invisible piano and a violin player. 

The night feels warm and the river to her side flows in cartoonish motions. 

In the middle of the sparkling water, a small café that has a neon sign in the shape of a heart crossed by an arrow shines in the navy blue night. 

Marinette smiles brightly and waves at the boy sitting alone in one of the tables. 

It’s easy to catch his attention because no one around him looks like she does. No one looks real enough to change the course of his thoughts. 

He looks at her a little bit confused before realizing that she really is calling for him.

His eyes narrow down and he leans in, taking the edge of the table but not standing up, looking at her from head to toe. 

It takes him a few seconds to finally break into a smile. Because even if he doesn’t physically recognize her, his heart knows who she is. 

Their souls would recognize one another even with the lights off. 

The experience is different for her. Of course, it is, Marinette knows what to look for as she moves through the streams of cloudy dreams. 

Tall and handsome, with a smile of gold, and there he is in front of her. 

Because she knows who he is.

He does not. 

It’s still not safe to reveal her identity, not enough time has passed to assure that she will not be chased or attacked. Only a few months and the secrets will fall. 

But for now, this is the only way they can meet. 

_ In dreams. _

Using the magic of the goat miraculous, she’s able to let behind the barriers, physical and psychological and they meet to converse. 

Adrien stands up from the little café and starts walking towards her, splashing water to the streets as he goes above it to meet her halfway. 

“You’re back!” He exclaims and runs to find her in a hug. 

Adrien lifts her from the floor and twirls with her on his arms. 

She grabs tight onto him and enjoys the moment. Spinning for longer than they would in real life, but without the consequences of getting dizzy. 

When he places her feet back to the ground, the scenery has changed. They’re in front of the Eiffel Tower, and it’s a spring night, foreign cherry blossoms decorate their surroundings. 

“Bonsoir, chaton,” Marinette smiles at Adrien and fixes the collar of his shirt. 

“Bonsoir, my lady,” Adrien leans and leaves a kiss on her cheeks. His lips linger for sweet seconds. 

Marinette giggles. 

She can feel all the love spreading inside her, running through her veins like thunder. One of the side effects of being on his dreams, his feelings intensify and she can feel them too. 

“I forgot that you would look like someone else,” He sighs, touching her face, “Why does this happen? Why do you look like someone I know?”

“Your brain can’t create a face you don’t know, so... you see me as who you want me to be,” She whispers.

This conversation has happened before, it’s painful to remind him about it every time they see each other. But at least this time she didn’t have to explain that she was indeed Ladybug and not his brain playing tricks on him. 

“That’s not fair for you,” He sighs, “Neither for her.”

A heavyweight settles on her stomach and a bitter taste on her mouth. 

Adrien mentions the mysterious girl _ again. _

She is really curious about who he talks about every time he mentions _ her _. 

Sometimes she allows herself to believe that he has her figured out and that even without knowing, he has found her. That when she appears on his dreams, he sees Marinette. 

Years ago, it would have been so easy to predict who embodied Ladybug inside his mind, but as time passed and he met more people and got more friends, she can’t make a certain assumption. 

But it is fine, whichever face she has it doesn’t matter. Adrien knows he is with Ladybug, and he wants to be with Ladybug, and that’s enough. 

“How’re you doing?” She asks, taking his hand and starting to walk through the curtain of pink petals that starts to flow in the air. 

“I could be better,” He answers, squeezing her hand. 

_ I could be with you. _

She hears, but she keeps quiet. It is an invasion of privacy that she hardly tries to avoid, but sometimes deep thoughts just slip in the chamber she creates in his mind.   
“Wherever you’re in the globe,” He begins, “How is it going there?”   
“Fine. It’s cold.”

“In the northern hemisphere,” He whispers and rubs his chin dramatically.

She rolls her eyes at him and softly elbows his ribs.

Adrien’s laugh rings like bells, and maybe a few jingle bells have replaced the stars on the sky.

“There’re a lot of cold places in the world, hot stuff,” She reminds him, but she does hope that this little clue she was able to give sticks with him.

“Are you eating well?”

“Not as well as I used to at home. I miss French food a lot, or well, actual homemade food, everything here feels very artificial.”

“Where in the world could you be?” He rubs under his chin, once again but this time not purposefully, and narrows his eyes, “Is there cheese?”

“Not enough camembert if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No! How is that annoying creature surviving then?” He laughs.

“He survives just fine. Yes, he whines, but it’s because you spoiled him too much. But I promise you, he behaves with me.”

“Good, he better be,” Adrien grinned, “I miss him so much.”

“He misses you too. _ A lot _ .”   
There is a stop and he smiles, the stars shine brighter and the sky looks more like Van Gogh’s Starry Night than an actual Parisian night. 

Then he shifts his eyesight into hers. 

She knows what he is about to say before he says it. 

“And do you?” He _ always _ asks.

“Every second of my day,” She _ always _ answers. 

It is in these moments, when Adrien looks at her with such passionated sorrow, with wishful thinking hanging lights on his eyes that she wonders if keeping a secret is really worth it?

Why must she wait? Why must she pretend this secret doesn’t hurt her too? Why must she act like everything is fine when her heart breaks because of how much she misses him?

It’s _ not _fair.

Why can’t she just tell him? 

“Hey,” His hand touches her cheek and he makes her look at him. His warm sight locks with her, “What’s with those sad eyes?”

“I really miss you,” Her lips quiver. 

The beginning of a thunderstorm rages in the background. 

She’s been here long enough to start messing up with his dream too. 

“Buginette,” He whispers, drawing her nearer. “I’m here now.”

Marinette’s hands fall on his chest and she grips into his shirt. 

Adrien bends his knees and presses his hands against her cheeks. He peppers her face with kisses, he begins on her forehead and goes down her cheek, he kisses the tip of his nose and they giggle in synch.

“Better?”

“Better,” She nods.

Her gaze flies through Champs de Mars and finds they’re not alone anymore. 

A man that wasn’t there before it’s in the middle of the street, playing a big piano of expensive wood, in the middle of the street. He is all alone but the notes of his piano aren’t, it’s like an orchestra is playing right in front of them, but it’s only him and the black and white keys. 

“I’m glad your taste in music runs far from metal, I don’t know if I would be able to visit you if I had to hear _ that _ kind of music all the time,” She teases. 

Adrien laughs and squeezes her hand, bringing her closer to his body. 

“Does that mean that you enjoy the lovely night I paint for you, my lady?” 

“I sometimes feel like I’m inside an indie movie, nonetheless, I enjoy it enormously,” Marinette says with candor, “I like to see how you see life, minou. It’s beautiful.”  
“It’s not always like that, most of the time there are more greys into the picture,” He points out at the sky and the buildings, “But whenever you’re around, it’s impossible to take the rose-colored glasses off. You bring the sun into the grey skies.”

“Wow, what a compliment,” She laughs, to not let her self blush. If she does she’ll as red and flustered as a cartoon, “I mean, coming from sunshine himself.”  
She can’t see him smile because he has pulled her into a hug, but the way the music changes around them lets her know that joy is bubbling in his veins. 

Marinette wraps his arms around him and presses her forehead against his chest. 

She glances down and sees the transformation of the cobblestones under them, from asphalt to colorful mosaics. 

The notes of the piano take control of the vivid shades, it swirling and shining in the most unexpected ways. 

Adrien’s hands run her spine and he takes a step back. 

Gentle eyes meet hers. 

“Can I have this dance, my lady?” He bows at her and extends his hand, waiting for hers. 

When he looks up his eyes are expectant and full of passion. 

Marinette gulps. Why does he have to look at her like that?

Does he know what kind of effect he has on her? 

The last question gets answered immediately, when his expression changes from calm and seductive, to a devilish grin. 

His characteristic devilish grin. 

That damn cheeky grin was annoying when they were fighting and protecting the city, but she’ll be a liar if she didn’t admit how it made butterflies flutter in her stomach and heart. 

Marinette huffs and looks to the right, but does not reject his invitation.

She nods, a little angry, a little flustered, and places her hand above his.

A chuckle vibrates in the back of his throat. He looks so pleased for making her feel this way. 

She clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes. 

“Stop smiling,” She hisses, but smiles. 

“Can’t help it, you’re right in front of me.”

Adrien lifts her hand and brushes his lips against her knuckles before starting to position themselves for a dance. 

Marinette has danced before, with him, her father, and some other boys, but she lets him guide her anyway.

Adrien places her hand on his shoulder and intertwines their fingers while pulling their hands up, finally, he puts one hand on her lower back. 

Sparkles fly all around her and her outfit changes before the dance starts. 

Marinette can’t remember what she was wearing before, but it doesn’t matter now, because this dress is the most magical thing she’s seen before.

It’s made of stars, and it shines like pearls, it flows with no wind, and it’s as soft as silk. It falls under her shoulders, and hugs her waist perfectly, it ends up a hand or two above her knees but she can’t tell because it keeps moving. 

Adrien tilts his head and his eyes narrow like they always do when his lips curl in big smiles. 

“You’re a dream,” He whispers with candor, yet she can’t help but laugh. 

It is a joke, of that she is sure, but it is also a compliment and his words of love. 

Those flirty words she misses so dearly.

“You’re a dream too,” She answers and they begin to move. 

The music accompanies them as they take coordinated steps and sway from side to side. 

Looking up, she can’t help but get hypnotized by the light on the pupils of his eyes, his scorching love burning inside him and warming her up. 

Marinette tells him about her day, leaving obvious details out but spilling as much as she can. She needs him to know, she needs to tell her. Especially tonight, because her whole day he has been wanting to fly back and get one of his warm hugs, his lips brushing the shell of her ear while he promises that everything will be alright. 

He listens in silence, commenting when necessary, joking when she needs it, and kissing his cheeks when he feels like it. 

She doesn’t complain to any of these actions, he knows her well enough to know when to do it, and she has let him know before how much she enjoys it. 

When she is over, Adrien doesn’t speak. He keeps quiet and thinks. Echoes of his words travel in the air, but Marinette avoids them until he says them out loud. 

Sometimes he doesn’t say anything at the end, letting her come to her own conclusions, others he gives strong advice, tonight he does exactly what she had been dreaming the whole day. 

They keep dancing but he presses their bodies together as tight as he can, his lips brush from her cheek to her ear and he whispers the tender words she so dearly needed to hear. 

It might not fix her situation, but having his support it is enough to make her see a crack light between the dark. 

They keep dancing when he begins to tell her about his day. 

They sway and elevate in the air, colorful clouds and shimmery stars follow their steps.

Adrien’s had a good day, she can tell that’s bee more than amazing for the way his lips curl up as he speaks, and she drowns in the joy the charming stories he is telling give her. 

Drops of warm water start to fall as they fly through the sky, smoke and flowers are left behind, and they end up in the rooftops. Right where they belong.

Rain keeps pouring and they stop their dance to lay against a pipe wall. 

The smoking chimneys blow up steam instead of their usual smoke, creating funny looking clouds all above them.

Marinette sighs and presses her hands against his chest, rubbing them up and down the collar of his jacket, that it is slowly sticking to his body with the rain. Just like his hair, just like his shirt. Water rolls down his forehead and down his cheek, down the bridge of his nose and to his lips. 

Marinette follows the drops and touches the corner of his lips with her fingertips, slowly drawing their shape. 

“Why do you always wait until you leave to kiss me? Why won’t you kiss me more than once when we are here?” He whispers, lips stroking against her fingers. 

“We’ve only kissed once out of here,” She reminds him.

“You’re dodging the question,” Adrien frowns, “We told no more secrets-” He puts a finger up at her when she opens her mouth, “-besides the obvious.”

Marinette pouts and grumbles. 

“C’mon,” He lifts her chin and leans down, pressing his forehead against hers, “Why won’t you kiss me, _ Buginette _?” 

She lets out a long sigh. 

“I need to stay in control,” She mumbles.

“Control of what? The dream?” He asks, confused. 

“Yes… and of the outside world.” 

Marinette never let’s go completely, there’s always a small part of her that’s still connected with the outside world. Her body is no completely numb to what’s happening outside.

“You’re such a control freak,” He nuzzles his nose against hers, “You need to learn how to let go.”  
“Defeating akumas sounded easier,” She huffs.

“Good thing you have me then,” Adrien says. He cups his cheek with one hand and puts another on the back of her neck, massaging her. The tension under her skin is palpable and the movements of his fingers against her start to release some of that stiffness. 

A moan slips of her lips when a knot untangles. 

“You’re good at this,” She says. Hopefully, with a little bit of luck, her muscles will be the same when she wakes up. 

“You deserve a break, every now and then, you know?”

“I can’t do that, I have a responsibility to-” He shuts her up, with a small peck on her lips. 

Marinette feels the heat rise to her cheeks. 

“You can do it, you_ have _ to do it. If you don’t take a break, if you don’t let the stress get out you will burn out, Ladybug.” 

Marinette winces. She knows he is serious when he doesn’t use her nickname.

“I’m not scolding you,” He tilts his head and backs down a few centimeters, then they’re able to see each other better, “I’m just taking care of you because I love you and I want you to be alright.”  
“I know,” She puts her arms around his neck, “It’s just really hard.”

“Then let’s start easy.”

“Easy?”

“Stop being _ Ladybug The Guardian _ for five minutes,” He suggests. 

“Just five minutes?” She asks softly. 

“_ Just _five minutes,” He nods. 

Five minutes do sound like a reasonable amount of time. It’s not like the kwamis were going to anything reckless, and New York wouldn’t disappear or be overtaken by crime in such a short period.

“Okay,” She shrugs, “We’ll start with five minutes.”

“Any ideas of what you want to do on those five minutes?” Adrien asks, wiggling his eyebrows at her and wearing a cheeky smile. 

Marinette throws her head back and sighs exasperated, only to seconds later bounce on her feet to make him catch her and hold her on his arms. With her legs around his hips and her face a little bit higher than his, she leans down and kisses his mouth, slowly taking his lower lip between her teeth and enjoying how the groan that comes out of his mouth makes her whole body vibrate. 

That’s how her five minutes of break begins. 

Lock of lips that collide so perfectly together than the stars would be jealous. Brush of hands against the skin, tearing apart fabric barriers to be closer, to be warmer, to feel the bliss of contact that they were always so deprived of. Laughs that ring like bells on Christmas mornings, and they smile like two teenagers in love, because that’s what they are, even if they have forgotten that, a consequence of all the responsibilities that were dropped on their shoulders at such a young age.   
Kissing Adrien is like hugging the delight a day of snow brings to a child. It’s honest and pure, it’s cozy and warm. Touching him is like discovering new land, intriguing and exciting. 

She is surely more than five minutes have passed, and mostly she knows because she can feel the distortion of the dream roaming down her skin, Adrien’s mind completely losing itself in a dream, if not she would have never realized that time was ticking. 

However, because she can’t let him enter deep sleep, she stops it. She wants to stay with him for longer.

Marinette pulls back and brushes pieces of his hair away from his face. 

“You’re a good boyfriend, Adrien,” She says as a thank you. 

“Well, I have to be on your level, bug,” He steals one last kiss and puts her down on the ground. 

It’s when she realizes that their background has changed again. The sky disappeared and gold and shiny chandeliers decorate the world around her. 

_ Palais Garnier. _

She recognizes it because she’s been there a thousand times before. It is one of their favorites places to sneak in to spend some time alone. 

They’re on one of the balconies closest to the stage. The red velvet walls and the gold it’s more vivid than they are in real life, but somehow also have a filter on it that makes it looks as if they were on an old movie. 

It’s only Adrien and her there, but the lights are off and a show is playing in front of them.

It’s a ballet. A tall and svelt girl is dancing in the middle, the spotlight around her is of a pastel blue, making her white dress sparkle as if she was dancing in the middle of the snow.

The music’s elegant, and full of sorrow, they make a beautiful match to her delicate yet broken moves. 

“I saw this the other day,” Adrien moves her hair away and whispers in her ear, “It’s the kind of thing you would enjoy. It’s a love story between a princess and a merchant. Very tragic, but very beautiful.”

Marinette takes a step closer to the edge of the balcony, to see the image better, but when she does she almost stumbles with the edge of her dress. 

She should have seen that coming, Adrien’s mind has changed their location, and so their clothes have changed too. They are dry from head to toe, it is like they were never under the rain. 

Adrien looks so handsome she could faint. His hair is pushed back and he is wearing an all-black tuxedo with golden buttons. 

She looks down to look at her dress, but something shifts in the dream, catching her attention. 

A mirror has popped in front of her showing her reflection.

Marinette’s hair is in a cascade braid ending in curls. Her dress is long and ruby red with a naked back. An expensive pair of gold earrings and a necklace give the finishing touch to her look. 

When she finally gets the image of her in her mind, the mirror disappears. 

“You look beautiful,” Adrien approaches her and kisses her shoulder, then he wraps her in a hug. 

Marinette melts into it, throwing her head back, placing her hands on top of his and moving with him from side to side. 

She’s in the best place she could ever be, his arms. 

They watch the ballet together like that. Adrien hums on her ear the melody of the songs and kisses her neck as she focuses on the story he is constructing for her.

For her, it’s obvious that this is not the story he told her about, in the beginning, it might have been, but now she is seeing a male protagonist chasing a beautiful girl down the rooftops of Paris. She is seeing the female lead saving him and slowly falling in love with him. 

Adrien can’t tell because it is his dream, but he has turned the ballet into their love story.

As interested as she is in the show he saw, she enjoys this so much more. Seeing his perspective about their romance it’s refreshing, it gives her insight in details she never thought to be important. 

Also, she can’t deny how wonderful it makes her feel to see how madly in love he is. It’s completely incredible to see herself from his point of view. 

Marinette has always known he loves her, how could she not? He would repeat it every day. Nonetheless, now that they’re serious, now that they’re together, it’s magnificent to know with certainty how much he loves her. 

It gives her confidence for the frightening future when the day comes and she gets to reveal who she is to him. She now knows that it won’t matter who she is, he will love her either way.

It’s shameful to admit that he doubted him a little, but it’s a valid fear to have, even when you know it is irrational. 

Tears are rolling down her cheeks when the ballet stops. The music is gone as well. 

Marinette looks up and finds the cause of the break. 

A crack on the painted roof of the golden room. A crack that spreads through the whole building. 

Time is up. 

“I have to go,” Marinette announces, spinning on her heels and facing him.

“Please don’t, just a little longer,” Adrien begs.

He takes her hands on his and pulls them to his chest.   
“It’s beginning to disappear,” Marinette points out around them, “You’re waking up,” She whispers. 

All the walls of the Opera vanish and they’re back on the streets of the small version of Paris his mind created, starts to fade, like drops of white paint covering a masterpiece or the holes of a picture being burnt.   
“Will I see you tomorrow?” He asks, touching her cheek as his handshakes. 

“I’ll try my best.”  
“If you don’t have time, don’t overwork yourself, I’ll be waiting for you whenever you can.” 

Marinette nods.

Everything around her is black, and the sizzle of a hurricane approaches them.

“Promise me. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I promise,” She says loudly so he can hear.

The darkness embraces them, but Marinette keeps holding tight. 

She softly presses her lips against his before he vanishes in the air. 

All it’s darkness until it’s not. Bright lights dazzle her and she feels the weight of her own body again. 

Marinette opens her eyes and meets her roof and group of expectant eyes looking back at her. 

He is gone and she is back to her reality. 

“He’s fine,” She says to the kwamis and keeps quiet after that. She doesn’t feel like talking. 

She never does after a trip to his dreams. 

It’s mentally and physically exhausting. Not to add how sad she always is when she leaves. There’s a price to pay, a side effect of the goat’s power. The one who enters the dream, the one with the power, remembers it all, but the dreamer only brings back a few memories when they wake up. 

That’s why their conversations sometimes are the same, that’s why he gets surprised with discoveries he has heard before, that’s why she tells the same story over and over again, that’s why he gets surprised when he doesn’t see her, or how many times in a week he can ask if she misses him.

Their relationship can keep going because of this, but only she can keep every sacred moment they share. That’s why she tries to repeat certain patterns, she hopes one day he will remember all. She hopes one day Adrien will wake up knowing everything that happened that night, and not only with a notion of having a dream about Ladybug. 

Marinette looks up again, the kwamis are still expecting her to say something else. 

“Go to sleep,” That’s an order, it will give them a hint. 

All the tiny beings go back to their respective beds without any comment, following her instructions without a complaint. All of them but the black cat. 

“He had a great day,” Marinette whispers, “He says he misses you.”

“Is he going to therapy? Is he taking his meds? Is he drinking enough water?” Plagg presses.

Marinette rolls her eyes, “He is _ fine _. Go to sleep.” 

They didn’t talk much about heavy subjects today, and she is okay with that, he was happy and she wasn’t going to spoil it.

Still, she smiles at how worried Plagg is because he only acts concerned when it comes to Adrien, and only when no one else is around. 

It takes a few more times to convince Plagg to go sleep next to Tikki, and when she finally achieves it she is so tired she just throws herself back in bed.

She is so tired. 

Marinette extends her arm to reach for the lamp and turn it off when a chime calls her attention. 

It’s her phone. 

Ignoring it is the best option but when it chimes three more times, she can’t help but look. 

The name on the screen surprises her. 

_ Adrien. _

Why would he text her at this time of the night?

Marinette takes the phone and falls back on the bed, looking at the screen with the notifications glowing back at her. 

She doesn’t open them immediately. 

It is always hard to chat with him as Marinette. She feels like she is lying all the time, asking a question to which she knows the answers, or just straight up playing dumb.

She doesn’t like it. At all. 

Her eyelids are closing and her breath is falling out of rhythm, so she decides to open the message before she falls asleep and regrets it in the morning. 

The messages are longer than she expected. He is his usual self, very kind and full of emojis. 

He greets her and asks her how’s she is doing, nonetheless, her eyes focus on the reason why he is texting. 

_ I’ve been dreaming of you. _

She knows he doesn’t mean to make it sound that way, but knowing what she knows it makes her go gooey inside. 

She reads it again. 

_ I’ve been dreaming of you. _

It’s obvious that he is still asleep and didn’t realize how he phrased it. 

But… 

_ I’ve been dreaming of you. _

Marinette holds the phone close to her heart and starts moving ecstatically. 

It doesn’t matter how he phrased because she knows what his dream was all about. She was there. 

Which means that if he is dreaming of her when he is meeting her as Ladybug then… _ he knows. _

_ He knows. _

_ He knows. _

_ He knows. _

It’s a beautiful song playing in the back of her mind.

_ He knows. _

_ He knows. _

_ He knows. _

He knows and yet he is unaware of it!

Adrien wants Marinette to be Ladybug. 

Adrien likes her so much outside the mask, that he wants her to be his partner, his best friend, his girlfriend, his true love. 

She sheds tears of jow, that create cascades down her cheeks. She rolls in bed, side to side, the excitement overflowing her. 

Cleaning the tears away and smiling so brightly that the moon can’t begin to compete, she writes back.

_ What a coincidence _

_ I’ve been dreaming of you too. _

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr: buginettez


End file.
